


Regret?

by BurntWhisky1



Series: Tempted [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Codependent Winchesters (Supernatural), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 10:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurntWhisky1/pseuds/BurntWhisky1
Summary: The morning after...and the ones after that.Sam regrets his actions. He's no idea what's going on in his brother's head.Dean's "whole body is taut as he stares at the front of his boxers as though they are about to bite him..."





	Regret?

Sam lies on his side in his own bed, one arm tucked comfortably under his pillow, just watching his brother sleep.  There is no chance of a smart-assed comment about taking a picture or of a suspicious frown, so Sam is free to luxuriate in his view of sleep-mussed hair and the dark crescents of closed eyelids.

Dean looks soft and young with sleep and his lips seem a little fuller than normal after Sam's kisses of the night before.

The thought of Dean beneath his hand makes Sam's groin twitch and he strokes himself with light fingers, wondering how much Dean remembers, because he was pretty out of it, but Sam is so sure he heard him say 'Sammy'.

Dean chooses this moment to stir and so Sam pulls his hands clear of the covers and runs them through his long hair, yawning and making a pretence of just awakening.

His brother looks a little sleepy; perhaps this is the after-effect of the tranquilizers, but perhaps not. Dean generally looks adorably rumpled in the morning.

 Sam gives him a minute, then tries a casual, "Hey man, how's your back?"

Dean doesn't answer immediately, giving himself time to check himself out by doing some experimental little stretches, each accompanied by a soft half-moan, half-hum that makes Sam's blood fizz. 

"Not so bad." Dean ventures. He sits up carefully and slowly swings his legs out of bed.

"Good meds," notes Sam.

"Yeah." There's a pause and a little wrinkle appears between Dean's eyes. "Gave me some weird-ass dreams."

His gaze is far away as he processes something internally and his brow curls  down some more, starting a buzz-saw of disquiet in Sam's gut.

Sam is reaching casually for his pants when he realizes that his brother has gone red, not just the pink flush of warm blankets but the deep red of embarrassment. Dean is biting his lip, hard, and staring at his own feet.

Sam's heart speeds up, anticipation fluttering in his stomach as he waits for Dean to say something. But Dean is pulling the covers around his waist like a virginal teenager and his ears are burning the color of beetroot. 

"Where's my boxers at?" 

"Got wet." Sam's mouth is dry and he decides to leave it at that. 

"Right," says Dean, tight lipped, and if the speed at which he gets dressed is anything to go by, his back is feeling much better.

They go to breakfast in a little diner on the far side of the parking lot. Dean is quiet and seems to be avoiding eye contact and by the time they've finished eating Sam's initial anticipation has dissolved into disappointment and then solidified into hurt.

As soon as they get back to the room,  Sam retreats behind the illusory safety of a book. His brother is clearly on edge and it occurs to Sam that maybe he was mistaken and Dean didn't kiss him back, or maybe he thought he was dreaming and was kissing someone else? Maybe Dean remembers what happened, but only went along with it because he was drugged up with meds? 

This last thought horrifies Sam. He loves his brother, always has, even at times when he's also almost hated him.

Sam knows his feelings have changed, gone off on a tangent from sibling affection. Now he's sort of 'in love' with Dean too, is experiencing a whole different range of emotions, ones that he's not felt so strongly since Jess. But that doesn't mean he's stopped outright loving Dean as a brother and as the person who near as damn it raised him. 

It's with a feeling of self-loathing that Sam decides he practically roofied Dean, the person who means more to him than anyone else in the world and who probably doesn't feel at all 'in love' with Sam. 

The despair nauseates him; his brother will despise him, may even leave. 

Once the thought is in his mind, it sticks like a burr to a blanket. It nestles there over the next few days until it's an unceasing irritation Sam can't bear. Part of him just wishes Dean would get it over with and put him out of his misery.

His brother is uncharacteristically quiet. He won't meet Sam's gaze and although Sam can often feel the weight of his stare, when he looks up Dean is always turning away or dropping his lashes, effectively cutting Sam off.

By the fourth morning, Sam has made up his mind. He can't stand the waiting any longer. He will go for a pre-emptive strike and apologize. And then he'll probably have to leave, or Dean will storm out. 

The pre-emptive strike is delayed when Dean wakes up with a startled curse. Sam stays put under his covers, peeping through his lashes in the gloom of the room as Dean gets up swiftly and almost jogs to the bathroom.

Concerned, Sam rises slowly and walks on silent feet to the bathroom door. The light is on inside and Sam realizes there is a fairly large crack between frame and door, large enough to see through. Hesitantly he peers inside. 

Dean is standing up in front of the bath, his toes curled into a towel he left on the floor the night before. His whole body is taut as he stares at the front of his boxers as though they are about to bite him and it is blatantly obvious that he has a massive hard-on.

As Sam watches, his brother brings the palm of his right hand down and presses hard against the swelling. It's no use; it springs back out as soon as he lifts his hand. 

Dean's face is flushed under his tousled bed-hair and his eyes are stricken. 

"No," he says softly. "No."

Despite the protest, his hands slowly push the boxers down and he steps out of them. His cock is flushed too, standing proudly in front of him and shining at the tip. 

Dean runs a tongue over his bottom lip; it's so sensuous that Sam's groin springs to attention even before his brother takes hold of himself and begins to slide his long, lean fingers up and down.

Sam's erection grows at a rapid rate, his balls almost hurting as Dean rests one hand flat against the wall and throws back his head. The long and lovely line of his throat is exposed and Sam swallows a growl as he imagines sinking his teeth into it and marking Dean as his own. 

Dean's eyes are closed and his mouth is open a little as he picks up the pace. He swipes his tongue along his lips again and they shine wet in the low light. Sam wants to kiss him so badly he can taste it.

Sam takes hold of himself, rocking his hips forwards as he begins to fuck into his own hand. His teeth are ground together to prevent any noise because just then Dean's mouth opens some more, his back a lovely arch as he pushes into his fist and it's so very, very hot that Sam is already spurting small streams of cum. 

He can see Dean is close; his hand picks up pace, the fingers sliding up and over the end of his cock; the muscles of his firm ass clenching and flexing as he drives his hips forwards. 

Suddenly his eyes fly open; they are green and glittering as he takes in a snatch of air. His back curves and then arches and he comes in thick white spurts through his fingers on a gasp of "Samsamsam". 

Sam's cock explodes. He has no idea how he stays silent. 

He is still hanging onto the door for support when he hears a broken gasp. 

His brother is sitting on the floor, his head in his hands and his knees drawn up. His cum is still leaking onto the tiles and he is crying.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Love to hear from you!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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